


Painted in a New Light

by MegannRosemary



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: F/F, Modern AU, tw: anxiety, tw: depression, tw: self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 20:10:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20233675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegannRosemary/pseuds/MegannRosemary
Summary: The music of Vtlantis, a band fronted by Jackie (Anne) Lister, has kept Ann Walker company through her darkest moments, chasing away the demons that haunt her. But when she meets Jackie after a show, the lines between fan and friendship blur, and paves the way for something more.





	Painted in a New Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghostmachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostmachine/gifts).

As the lights dimmed in the music hall and the crowd pressed in around her Ann pushed all other thoughts from her mind and ignored the taunting voices in her head telling her that she looked stupid and ugly and that she didn’t belong. She knew she looked painfully out of place in her white blouse plastered with cheery daisies and her denim high-waisted shorts. But anything that would have fit in with this crowd would have tipped off her Aunt and Uncle as she left the house.

But she was here for one reason, and one reason only.

Jackie Lister and Vtlantis.

Ann hugged the rigid folder to her chest and leaned her arms on the barrier in front of the stage. Bright lights flashed, signaling Jackie’s arrival onstage, and then the screaming melody of the electric guitar and the pain in her eardrums drowned out the pain in her soul. The heavy base made her heart pound and she surrendered herself to the feeling of something other than anxiety making her feel this way.

Jackie strode across the stage, in heavy black boots and black jeans that were more rips than jeans. She was shorter than she seemed in pictures, but her presence on stage was larger than life. While the people around her screamed and jumped and reached out their hands to touch Jackie’s, Ann stood frozen as Jackie crouched in front of her, seemingly singing to her, and to her alone.

_“Baby, you could be the death of me.”_

She shivered under the intense gaze, and Jackie’s raspy voice seemed to caress her, her arms, her cheek, her lips. She leaned into the words, and into the caress of her voice.

The other members faded into the background as Jackie sang. Ann closed her eyes and lost herself in the familiar lyrics and the voice that had kept her company during her darkest moments of her life.

Nearly two hours later, her voice was hoarse from screaming the words and her shirt damp with sweat. She followed the small group of people heading out back to the tour bus to wait for the band to come out.

After what felt like an eternity, the stage doors opened with Eddie and Thomas came out first. Jackie was a few minutes behind, and she was swarmed immediately. Ann hesitated at the edge of the group, watching the way her favourite singer interacted with her fans, a smile here and a wink there. She was charming, there was no denying that.

Jackie’s hair had been slicked back at the beginning of the concert, but the short curls had become more and more disheveled as the night wore on. Ann had followed the drama on Instagram a few months ago when Jackie had buzz cut her long bleached blonde hair. Ugly rumours and nasty comments about her sexuality and her gender identity had clogged up the comments for weeks. The singer had merely wanted to get rid of her damaged hair, brought on by the number of wild colours she’d dyed it over the years.

Ann’s fingers itched to push back the now-long curls that fell into Jackie’s eyes, but before she could wonder why she had an almost physical ache to do so, Jackie tossed her head, shaking the wild curls back into place and looked right into Ann’s eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat and her skin felt too tight.

Jackie smiled at the fan in front of her as she handed back the signed photo. Seconds later, she pushed through the crowd to stop in front of Ann. 

“What’s your name?”

“Ann. Ann Walker.” Ann flushed under her dark gaze.

“Do you have something you want me to sign?”

“No…I…” Damn, her ticket was on her phone and the only piece of paper she had was the one she wanted to give to Jackie herself.

Jackie quirked an eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”

“I just wanted to say I love your music. It means so much to me and it’s really helped me get through some stuff, and well, I made this for you...and the guys too…I guess…but mostly for you.” She opened the folder, with the thick cream sheet of paper secured tightly inside, to reveal the painting.

“This is amazing.”

In the bright fluorescent light of the parking lot streetlamps, Ann wasn’t so sure. But Jackie took the drawing from her and brushed her long elegant fingers over the black and white painting of herself. Ann could almost feel each caress over her body, and something unfamiliar burned low in her stomach.

“This is phenomenal. I’ve never seen someone paint like this, in black and white and shades of grey.”

“It…It’s nothing.”

“This is not nothing.” Jackie’s voice dropped an octave or two, and the huskiness made Ann shiver, even in the humid night air. “What do you do Ann Walker? Are you an artist?”

God, how did she answer a question like that? _My parents died and left me with more money than I know what to do with, so I never have to work a day in my life but I’m a depressed and anxious mess and I haven’t returned to Uni even though I was released from the hospital last month._ No. She couldn’t say that. 

The tour bus honked before she could open her mouth, although to say what she didn’t know. 

Jackie squeezed her arm. “You know what. Why don’t you tell me all about it when we get coffee next month.”

“We’re getting coffee next month?” Ann’s voice squeaked out the words and the mental berating began.

“Yes, I’ll be back in Leeds when my tour is over in a month or so.”

Her number was in Jackie’s phone before she had time to question anything that had happened in the last five minutes. Jackie raced for the tour bus, pausing halfway there to wave at the crowd and a then she looked right into Ann’s eyes, held the folder to her chest and mouthed thank you.

Tears pricked at the corners of Ann’s eyes and her throat ached. The fact that Jackie liked the drawing was more than she could have ever hoped for. But coffee? Why?

Jackie disappeared inside, and the bus pulled away, leaving Ann to wind her way through the streets to the train for the long ride home to Halifax. A ride that was accompanied by thousands of questions racing through her mind but also an energy within her she hadn’t felt in a long time.


End file.
